Moving In
by onyourleft126
Summary: Let's face it, the Avengers have no business living under the same roof. They don't WANT to live under the same roof. But they end up doing so, for the same reason they became a team in the first place: out of necessity. And it turns out to be the best decision of their lives. one-shot, semi-AU, post-CA:TWS


More than a year after repairs started on Stark Tower and a couple of months after it had finally been finished, Bruce Banner moves in with Tony Stark. Bruce had been traveling for a while now, but when circumstances involving The Other Guy land him back in the US, Tony invites him to stay at the Tower for as long as he needs.

It is a cold and rainy night when the rest of the Avengers finally move into the Stark tower. But not in the way anybody expects.

Hawkeye arrives first. Pepper is visiting relatives out of town, and the two scientists are watching football together when Bruce raises the question:

"No news from our friends at SHIELD?"

Tony shakes his head. "Nothing."

"We should at least try to find them...what if they need help?"

"I've tried, Bruce," Tony says, and he doesn't care that he sounds so helpless. "Seriously, I have. But it's an organization full of spies. They know how to disappear. If they don't want to be found, they won't." He runs a hand through his hair. "The only person who I know is even remotely safe is Maria Hill. She's my only lead, but it just goes to show how effed up everything really is that even she doesn't know where—"

They're surprised when JARVIS alerts them to a visitor downstairs.

"Speak of the devil. That's Agent Barton," says Bruce, recognizing the face on the security camera feed. "What is he doing here?"

"That's what we find out," says Tony. So Clint is granted access to the elevator, and he arrives, wet and wild-eyed, at the penthouse. Tony gets behind the bar and starts mixing him a drink while Bruce runs to get a towel for their visitor.

"I need your help," Clint says, as Tony hands him a glass of liquor. SHIELD is in ruins. Their secrets are out in the open. Nick Fury is dead, and the Black Widow...well, Clint doesn't know where she is. That's why he's here, he explains. To get help. To find her. Perhaps Tony Stark, with all his resources, can gather intel on her whereabouts. His voice is desperate and his wet fingers clutch the glass with an anxious intensity. Tony doesn't have the heart to tell him he's already tried to do just that, with no positive results."Calm down first," Bruce tells him, "and get dry..."

Once again JARVIS interrupts, this time to announce a security breach. And that's how Natasha Romanoff arrives at the penthouse-the elevator doors sliding open to reveal her, mascara melting in rivulets on her face, red hair limp and soaked on the shoulders of her sleek wet catsuit, standing in a puddle of rainwater and blood.

Bruce stands up so quickly that the chair goes over behind him, and Tony is surprised when Clint pushes his drink back into his hand and crosses the room to wrap her in a wordless, tight embrace.

It's a full minute before they decide to let go of each other. Then Bruce is running back for another towel, Tony is behind the bar opening a bottle of vodka in a moment of rare generosity, and Clint is telling Natasha off- "Where have you been? How did you get here? How could you disappear without telling me?" She holds back a smile, pleased to see him so concerned.

"Every identity I've ever had is out in the open," she says as Bruce hands her a towel. "My old enemies are after me, I barely escaped with my life. This was the only place where I hoped I would be safe. It's not easy for me to come here," Natasha says, looking at Tony, "but I promise, I won't stay very long-"

"You can't go back out there," Clint interrupts. "Not with all those people who want to kill you!"

They both glance at Tony, knowing the final verdict rests with him.

"Um," says the billionaire. "You know what, both of you stay here for as long as you need. I don't mind. Do you, Brucie?"

"Not at all," Bruce says calmly.

It's an hour and a half before Steve Rogers shows up. This time, when JARVIS flashes live security footage, it shows not one but three figures standing on the curb in the rain. One man is obviously Steve himself. Next to him stands a stranger in a long raincoat, and between them they are supporting another unconscious man, partly obscured with another coat.

"I know this guy," Natasha says, looking at the man next to Steve. "That's Steve's friend, Sam Wilson."

Steve's voice comes over the intercom: "Stark! We need help!"

A press of a button, a few apprehensive waiting minutes, and the elevator doors open once more.

"Captain!"

"Please," Steve says desperately, "My friend, Bucky..."

"What?" gasps Natasha, finally recognizing the unconscious figure between them. She recoils, a mix of fascination and repulsion.

"He needs medical attention," Sam puts in, "and Steve said one of you was a doctor."

Bruce is in his element. "This way," he says, leading Sam and Bucky back into the elevator. They head for the facility clinic, a couple of floors down, leaving Steve to explain himself. He tells everyone about their search for Bucky, which spanned half the continent only to end in New Jersey with the rest of Hydra gunning down their former most valuable weapon, the Winter Soldier, after learning that he had gone rogue. "Sam and I rescued him just in time, and we came here...we didn't know where else we could go."

Bruce and Sam return. Anxiously, Steve asks after Bucky.

"He's sedated, but stable," Bruce says, "nothing I can't fix." Steve exhales in relief.

"I'm sorry," he says to Tony. "We might be here for a while..."

"It doesn't matter," says Tony flatly. "Honestly, I'm long past caring. These two have already made themselves welcome," and he gestures at the two SHIELD agents. "So it doesn't really make a difference. You're all welcome to stay for as long as you have to. If you've got nowhere else to go, then stay right here and make yourselves at home- even you, uh, stranger," he says, addressing Sam.

"Sam Wilson," Sam introduces himself confidently. "Codename Falcon."

"Really?" Says Clint with a grin. He offers his hand. "Clint Barton, codename Hawkeye."

"Cool, man!" Sam says, and from that moment on Hawkeye and Falcon are established bird-buddies. More towels are passed around, more drinks are served, and everybody catches up with everybody else. The football game ends, completely ignored. A fork of lightning splits the sky, and thunder rumbles tremendously, almost like a bugle call announcing the arrival of royalty.

Dead silence falls on the company. "Well," says Tony, "I figured it'd only be a matter of time."

Another flash of lightning illuminates the impressive, stocky figure of Thor landing on the balcony. Tony opens the door, and the god enters with a gust of wind that sends several throw pillows flying.

"I apologize for my untimely arrival," says Thor, "but I have been living on Midgard for over a moon now, and merely wanted to see how my...friends...were faring..." He looks at the shell-shocked and wide-eyed heroes in the living room.

Thor raises an eyebrow. "Did you all just come here now?"

Tony gathers himself before anyone else does. This, he realizes, is how it was always supposed to go. He doesn't quite believe in fate or coincidence, but at this moment, all science goes out the window as Tony looks at Thor, at Clint and Natasha next to each other on the couch, at Steve and Sam dripping all over his carpet, at Bruce burdened with gloriously soaked towels. Unexpectedly, inadvertently, just like their first meeting, the Avengers (plus one) were assembled once again.

So Tony Stark acts accordingly.

"Any more drinks, anyone?"

"Actually," pipes up Natasha, "I think I'll have a hot coco or something."

"Hot coco? Really?" Tony says, but Clint says "You know what? Me too."

"And me, please," Steve says.

"I as well- whatever hot coco is," Thor booms.

"Sure, why not," Sam says coolly.

Bruce grins at Tony. Things have just got a whole lot more interesting...

Tony sighs. "Okay, six orders of hot coco and the rest of that vodka for me." Before he retreats to the kitchen, Natasha calls out.

"Stark?"

"Yeah, Red?"

"Thank you," she says seriously. "Really. It's a pretty bad time to be a SHIELD agent." Clint and Steve murmur their agreement.

He shrugs. "Sure thing, guys. Least I can do. Anyway, why be an agent of SHIELD when you can be an Avenger?" Tony smirks, before disappearing into the kitchen.

Everybody glances at one another.

"He's right, you know," says Bruce good -naturedly. "Agent Barton?"

"Yeah?"

"Use a coaster for your drink, please. Miss Romanoff, will you make room on the couch for Sam and the Captain? Oh, and Thor?"

"Aye!"

"Would you please do something about all this rain?"

Natasha scoots over so Steve and Sam can sit. She finds herself snuggling unintentionally into Clint's wiry arm.

"Sorry," she says.

"Pssh," chuckles Clint. "It's fine." He puts his arm around her and lets her settle comfortably into his side as Tony returns with a tray of mis-matched mugs, passing them around as the rain suddenly, magically, ceases, leaving drops clinging to the windows to be illuminated by the sunrise like minute pieces of the Bifrost.

Tony finally puts down the tray and watches his guests get comfortable, hands on his hips. There would be some explaining to do to Pepper, but otherwise?

Sharing wasn't so bad.


End file.
